


Lalli to Emil

by Nellie_McEnt



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: M/M, Melodrama, What am I doing, i am terrified to post this, i tagged this as a ship but you can read it as platonic if you want, probably, so much melodrama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellie_McEnt/pseuds/Nellie_McEnt
Summary: Lalli's internal monologue about Emil, I guess.It's full of melodrama (how many times have I said that now) and I'm still not actually sure I want to post it, but 3 people have told me it's good now, so I guess I can.Be aware that I wrote it at midnight or something, though it has been edited since then.Here goes??Oh, and thanks to Fenny, RanVor, and GeneralGuy for being my proofreaders.





	Lalli to Emil

Hold me, for I am the lost. Take my hand and guide me through this wasteland which they call despair. Your hands, which look so smooth, are calloused. Rough with use, rough with care, rough with fire. They are warm, like your smile and like your heart—except when you don’t understand. Even then, your heart really is warm. It burns with a passion that I could never understand. You are an enigma; some fire burning in the depths of a space that I cannot reach, surrounded by stars. Where I am it is too often dark, and there are very few stars.

But your flame melts something in me, warms me, and lets a little bit more light and a few more stars blink through the shivering darkness. In your smile there is a constellation, which is strange. I don’t think I had ever truly seen one before. And yet, here you are. And you are cutting your way to my emotions and the wound is raw, and it hurts, and I don’t know what to do, and I turn to you because that’s the only place I have to turn. Because no one else understands—and of course, you don’t really understand either—but you do. Somehow. And when I turn to you the wound only opens wider and I only uncurl a little bit more. 

And I worked so hard to build up this exterior of ice and steel and silence. I am broken, but I held myself together with patches of bark that I pulled from the trees, and shards of metal that I found in abandoned buildings, and I stuck it all together with water that I froze, as I froze my heart so that I would not have to care. Or to love.

And you. You are ablaze with life and energy, and your emotions?—you can’t hide them. They sit there on the surface, they radiate out of you, you veritably shine with the heat of whatever you’re feeling at the moment, and it’s—well, I want to call it pathetic, but I think a part of me envies you.

So put your hand in mine. And put your other hand on my shoulder. Hold me, in spirit at least. Guide me out of this maze that I have built of my own thoughts and feelings, this maze which grows ever more confusing, ever more twisted, because there are feelings now that I hoped never to feel again. Lead me from the labyrinth, be my Ariadne and my golden thread. Step by step, you and I can carry ourselves somewhere where we will never have to fear for ourselves or for the people we love (wherever those people are for you).

We will never have to fear again.


End file.
